Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of The Closet
by Hedwig199
Summary: A small parody of the movie Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban. A funny story ideed, hope you laugh!
1. Bloody Beginnings

A/N: POA is a great movie, but it'd be even better...IF I MESSED IT UP!

Harry was under the covers, playing with his wand. You know, you'd think he would be in trouble for this. Aw, well. Back to this, he was playing with his wand under the covers. No, not that wand, his actual wand.

"_LUMOS AHGARASGASHAS!_" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs.

"What the bloody bloodyness is going on here?!" Uncle Vernon screamed, appearing at the door. He looked over and gasped. Harry had several knives and screwdrivers stabbed into him, pinning him on the ceiling and dripping blood on the carpet.

"MU_MMMMYY_!" He yelled, running out of the room. When he was gone and the door was shut, Harry pulled every sharp thing out of his abdomen, causing him to fall onto the bed.

"Works every time," he said, unlodging a cutlery knife out of his now visible rib. He started to sway on his feet and his vision doubled. "I-I don't feel very good." And slumped onto his bed.

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It was a morning on Privet Drive. I think. Anyways, "The Sweet Escape" started to play as some fat English chick rang the door bell.

"POTTER, GET THE BLOODY BLOOD DOOR!" Aunt Petunia screamed. Harry scratched his head, and sighed, grabbing the door handle when a enormous woman suspiciously shaped like a balloon walked in and an equally fat dog.

"Oooooooh, my Duddles Wuddles Fuddles Cuddles and woo-woo-woo!" she exclaimed, kissing his heavily dandruffed head several times as he consumed a basic can of lard. Harry scratched his head, wondering how the fat boy was still _alive_ based on the fact he had several heart attacks and strokes every day.

He went up to Uncle Vernon. "Dude, sign this."

"If you don't blow up your Aunt, then maybe," he muttered, taking her coat. She turned and sneered, looking like Malfoy for, like, two seconds. I swear, that kid must do like, that one scene instead of her.

_"Yoooooou'reeee_ still here, are you?" she asked, as if this enormous woman was better than Harry. Even though he's killed a Basilisk and faced Voldemort twice, escaping and saving Ginny once, and also became a Seeker at 11 years old for a Quidditch team, and the best thing she'd ever done is figure out how to eat 50 chicken wings without using her hands.

"Like, no duh," Harry said with a flourish of jazz hands.

"Don't say yes in that ungrateful way, you little...ingrate," she said, confused.

"I didn't say-"

"Eat some of this, dearie," she cooed to the rabies-infested dog who was growling and slobbering. Harry rolled his eyes as he took more of the crap that was on the table that strangely enough, he didn't get to eat. 

"THIS IS DELICIOUS! GET ME SOME ALCOHOL!" she demanded, slamming her fists down. Harry rolled his eyes, forgetting to pour the poison in the brandy as he planned. He poured the big balloon, I mean hot air balloon, a glass of brandy that she downed instantly.

"So your Mum's nothing but a homewrecking tart and you're Dad's gay?" she asked drunkenly, chuckling. Harry's eyes turned red(remind you of anyone?) and smashed the bottle of brandy on her head. She didn't react, for her hair had kept her head perfectly safe, but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and that tub of lard stared at him horrified.

"GRRRRR!" the broken brandy glass pieces shouted at him before picking themselves up and walking out.

"Sorry, my head is quite hard," she chuckled, licking brandy off the table when she blew up, like suddenly. Aunt Marge pieces were picked off of Harry's chest and he ran upstairs.

"NRAAAHHH!" He screamed, kicking his nightstand, sending the picture of people who looked nothing like his mum and dad get sent flying across the room. He then got angered at that and started packing magically and crap. He flew down the steps so hard contracted several diseases of the immune system.

"YOU BRING HER BACK!" Uncle Vernon screamed with his face looking like a really fat cherry.

"First of all, old man, does personal space mean _anything _to you?" he asked, pushing his head back with a finger. "And second of all, NRAAAHHH!" He shoved his wand into his eye.

"OOOOOW, MUUUMMMY!" he screamed, falling on the ground. Harry laughed so hard that at least a quarter of the diseases he had spilled out, along with his lung. Swallowing his lung, he ran out, with The Human Lard AKA Dudley was eating the remains of Aunt Marge.

So then, The-Boy-Without-A-Plan took off down the street, big ol' suitcase in hand as he took off towards the sunset. I mean, moon. Until he got frustrated and was distracted by the creepy park off in the distance...

A/N: This is what I'd like to call me "mini-story', with short chapters of POA posted every day to two days.


	2. REHAB!

A/N: We interrupt this broadcast to continue Harry potter and the Prisoner Of His Closet. I'm sorry I havnt updated, I've competely fogotten about the story!

Disclaimer: I dont own any Brittany Spears lyrics! Or HP.

"If I could be sweet...I know I've been a real bad girl," Harry sang the lyrics to his doorbell ring as he swaywed back and forth on the curb near his street. He turned and saw some creepy rain-covered swings and creepy rain-covered merry-go-rounds, and creepy rain-covered other stuff. He shrugged until he saw a really cute anime dogy acros the crreoy, rain-covered street.

"DIE!" and Harry lunged at it. The dog became frightened and dissapeared, kinda like that smoke thing from Lost. Anyways, he got squished by a car.

"'Ello, 'ello!" A totally cracked out guy standing on the platform inside the bus said. Harry got up, completely unharmed. Other than the fact that his appendix was missing. he saw it a few feet away, but shrugged. It's not like he was ever going to be able to use it. He wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Hehe, so, yeah, get...on...and what's your name?" The dude, Stan Shunpike said. It had become quite obvious that he was on mushrooms, and had no idea what the hell was going on. Harry lugged and shrugged and tugged and pugged his suitcase up the steps.

"Ginny Weasley," he said, saying the first name that came to mind. Stan was too busy doing some drug like a normal 19 or 18 or however old he was. He sat down on a totally awesome bed, and suddenly, a little shruken head screamed "A-JAM ON IT!" Which scared him and sent him flying into the ceiling.

"We 'avent ever started ta move!" Stan shouted, getting out his bag of heroine and a straw.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, peeling himself off of the ceiling and he could hear snorting sounds from the corner of the bus, in Stan's direction. Then, the buss took off. Quite a relzaxing ride really, with smooth jazz playing in the background. When ther reached the Leaky Couldron.

"Ooh, I love you too, baby," Harry said. Stan angrily looked up from his drug sniffling and groaned.

"Hey, Ginn-ay, stop makin' out with that window!" Stan called.

"Aww," Harry whined, detatching his lips from the window. He, like the idiot he is, fell out the window and onto a Merceds Benz.

"HEY, YOU JERK!" a voice yelled from inside. He looked and slapped his hand over his mouth, causing him to slide offa the...well, it's a Hummer now. Anyways, it was Dobby.

"Yo, Dobby, my main elf, how ya doin'?" Harry asked, but a totally pimped out Dobby bitch slapped him across the cheek.

"I said I'd get you the money tommorowwwwww-uh!" Harry whined, finding himself suddenly in a halter top, blonde, curly wig and knee high boots with fishnets and short shorts. He looked down, puzzled and Dobby seemed just as confused.

"Dobby doesn't like to be called 'Dobby' anymore, sir, it's Dobbz now." He exclaimed, smiling. he showed a whole row of platinum grill"Z" spelling out "DOBBY OWNS YOUR MOM FO' SHO'". Then he drove off, running over The-Boy-With-Issues several times, one of the times which was intentional.

"Daaayummm, that biznitch's ride isss tiiiiiight!" Harry said, and some creepy hunchback guy, bitch slapped him and brought it in. he stopped and looked down the street.

"THAT BIZNATCH STOLE MY RIDE HOME!" he roared, and threw him into Cornelius Chocolate...er, Fudge's office. He was sitting politely on a chair in front of his room.

"Hey, yeah, you can go now," he said the minute he opened the door. "But just so you know, for some reason I'm letting you off this time, but will _severly _screw you over in the future!"

"What?" he asked.

"What?" Mr. Fudge asked back.

"What?" Harry asked again.

"BOOBY!" he screamed, and shut the door.

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Harry went to a room, finding all his crap and his bird there. He looked at The Monster book Of Monsters, and was evidently confused when it didn't attack.

Then...a horror unimganiable began to come from the book that it'd just scare to death any man or woman, boys or girls, Muggle, witch or wizard.

"_WHEN IM WITH YOU I LOSE MY MIND, GIVE ME A SIGN...HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME!" _it began to sing that horrible song.

"Make the torture stop!" Harry screamed, putting his hands over his ears that were bleeding profusely. He suddenly had an idea.

"You need to go to rehab," he said to the book. He pulled a dagger with words written on the side.

"Take..REHAB!" he screamed, plunging the dagger that acutally did say "REHAB" on it. It died.

"Shweet," he said. He walked outta the place and decided to wander, not paying attention to Fudgie.

'I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!" he heard a very bossy, bushy-haired sounding voice shout. he ran over and saw Hermione crying, holding her rabie infested cat.

"Hermione!" he yelled, hugging her. "What's wrong?"

"Not only did Ron get me PREGNANT, he gave me herpes, Harry!" she screamed.

"Now that's pretty se-I mean, WHY, RON, WHY?!" He pounded at him with all fury he come up with in his limber body.

"UH-OH, SPRAGHETTINGOS! SIRIUS BLACK IS AFTER YOU!' Mr. Weasley screamed, pointing at Harry in fear.

A/N: meh, came up with this on a whim.


	3. Authors Note

Dear Peoples:

Hello, this is Hedwig199. I am sooooo freaking sorry, but this story has been put on hold. I know, it sucks, whatever. But I really can't have the pressure right now-I feel like I have to write it. Like, I'm not enjoying it. I will keep this chapters up for your enjoyment, but really, I'm not feeling them right now.

I have started a new story I will be working on, The Marauders Guide To Being Dangerously Cool. I wish to continue this story, because I feel very optimistic and happy about my ideas for it. I'm sorry I'm not updating TFL II, but it's not very successful as it's first and I dont really like what I've done with it. As for Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of His Closet, I haven't watched POA in God knows how long. And The Completely Random Seventh Year Parody? I have like, half a chapter done, but can't bring myself to post it. Actually, no. I will post my half chapter thing and that's when this has been posted, since you are obviously reading this last.

Like I said, I feel like I have so many unenjoyable things I'm writing and I need to ake a break and start doing first-person stories because they're what I love.

Sincerely.

HedwigOneNineNine.


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